Love is patient.

They've worked together for years upon years. She used to wonder if he ever thought about that, ever wondered why she'd stayed so long. Sure, the money was good, but she could have worked somewhere else in a heartbeat, somewhere where they'd have given her a fancier title and a bigger office a heck of a lot sooner than Tony ever did.

She wondered if he'd really never figured it out. Or maybe the truth was too much for the man-child Tony Stark to handle.

Love is kind.

She's never been cruel to him. That's where she draws the line. She will put her foot down. She will say no. She will stand up to Tony Stark with every bit of her five foot, nine inch frame, but she won't crush him.

Oh, she knows how. She knows every single one of Tony Stark's buttons. If she wanted to, she could reduce him to absolute nothing. But knowing means she never will, because knowing means loving. To her, the two have always been inseparable.

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

Tony's always been the face. He's the one on the magazines, the one who gets invitations to the White House. She's only part of those things because he brings her in, pulls her into his ever-widening circle.

Sometimes, people ask her why she doesn't mind. Isn't she a modern woman?

Of course she is, but she knows that Tony Stark needs limelight like plants need sun. The only thing he needs more than that is someone to come home to whose arms are open no matter what.

That's why.

It does not dishonor others.

People say Pepper Potts is classy, that no matter how many times you ask her or how many ways you phrase the question, she won't throw Tony Stark under the bus. No matter what he does or how many mistakes he makes, she just smiles and nods with a knowing look in her eyes.

He must be paying her a fortune, they say, to get that kind of loyalty.

She's the only one who knows the truth, that when she thinks of Tony Stark, all the silly mistakes and stupid antics are crowded out by the memory of his arms around her and the way his eyes look when he's made a new discovery. The Tony she knows may be broken, but that brokenness just means the light shines brighter through him.

It is not self-seeking.

She never wanted the promotion. She can handle it, of course, the way she's always handled Tony's schedule and his dry cleaning and his lawsuits. But she never looked for it.

Being with him was always enough. It was her choice, never about crushing her own dreams or killing her potential. It was about finding what she wanted and pursuing it whole-heartedly no matter how long it took.

It was her quest. He was her quest.

It is not easily angered.

Goodness knows she gets mad at Tony. How can anyone not get mad at Tony who's spent more than three minutes around him?

People always whisper that it's amazing how much he listens to her. For some reason, the man who won't listen to anybody sits up and takes notice when the red-headed woman speaks to him in that particular tone. Nobody gets it.

Nobody except Pepper. She knows about picking battles, about the respect that comes when you only ever get mad about the important things, the life and death things. She gets mad when she has to, and he knows it.

It keeps no record of wrongs.

If she kept track of all the times he's failed her, she'd have a ledger a thousand pages long. He's been irresponsible, inconsiderate, and thoughtless. That was just the first week.

But there's more to Tony Stark than the hyperactive carelessness of an overgrown child, and when she realized that, the rest didn't matter any more. When she saw his heart, she burned the ledger forever.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

Lots of people have told her to ditch Tony Stark, to sell out and tell the secrets she knows. The offers—well, they've been so huge it's hard to even comprehend the money she's been offered, the power, the property.

But even on the difficult days, she's not tempted. Even when she's frustrated, she doesn't cave. She knows the truth, the hard-as-metal truth that the immature, impulsive, huge-hearted man she loves is good, and she would die for him.

It always protects.

As the suit closes around her, she screams, not because of fear or pain, but because she can't do anything to stop the metal from encasing her body and instead force it onto the body of the one she loves. She would happily endure whatever agony is to come if only she could know that he's safe, protected, cared for.

She has protected him with words more times than she can count, but she would gladly protect him with her life.

Always trusts.

Even as she walks away, her body reeling in shock from what she's just endured, she refuses to give up. She would know, she thinks, if his life has been erased from the world. The gap would be too big.

She's never been one to think about metaphysical connections or soulmates. It's far simpler than that. Tony has become her life. If he was gone, she wouldn't be alive. She couldn't be.

Always hopes.

As the serum courses through her body, she closes her eyes tightly and pictures Tony in her mind. It doesn't matter how. She sees him laughing, and she sees him crying. She feels his kiss on her lips and his tears on her cheek. The images blend into each other, year after year, the simplest moments suddenly sacred with meaning.

The pain—the pain only serves to make her more alert, awake to her unshakable faith. All of her years with Tony have led to this one moment in time, this ultimate test of her faith.

She breathes in and out slowly. She has passed the test. She knows he will come, and she will be saved.

Always perseveres.

It's her turn.

Tony has always been her hero, through dark days and good days. When she wanted to slap him and hold him. All the years pile up like sand on the beach, stacking up to form a life together. He's always been the rescuer, she the rescued.

Today is different. Today she will stand between Tony Stark and the edge of darkness.

She is like molten lead; she is on fire. He thinks she burns because of what has been done to her, because of the poison in her veins. Someday she will tell him that she needed no serum that day.

She will spend a lifetime showing him that love was enough.